As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor panty hose hung sadly empty and grew increasingly threadbare.

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and
a fake beard and went in search of aninflatable love doll. Of course, they
don't sell those things at Wal-mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore
downtown. If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only
confuse yourself. I was there almost three hours saying things like, "What
does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who owns that?" "Do you have their
phone number?"

Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a
standard, uncomplicated doll suitable for a night of romance that could also
substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during
rush hour. I'm not sure what a complicated doll is. Perhaps one that is
subject to wild mood shifts and using a French accent for no reason at all.
(That also describes a few ex-girlfriends.)

Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many different
models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do
things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I figured the
"vibro-motion" was a feature Jay could live without, so I settled for Lovable
Louise. She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call LOuise a "doll"
took a huge leap of imagination.

On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to
life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and cleverly left the front door
key hidden under the mat. In the wee morning hours, long after Santa had
come and gone, I snuck into the house and filled the dangling panty hose with
Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what
remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. Then I let myself out, went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his
house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog
confused. He would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some
more. I suggested he purchase an inflatable Lassie to set Rover straight. We
also agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the
family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas
dinner. It seemed like a great idea, except that we forgot that Grandma and
and Grandpa would be there.

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What
the hell is that?" she asked.

Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no
one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, Hang
on!"

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me
and said," Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she was
Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking
to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we
realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died,
who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise
that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning. The she
lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap
in front of the sofa.

The cat screamed, I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa
ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth to mouth
resuscitation. My brother wet his pants and Granny threw down her napkin,
stomped out of the room, and sat in the car. It was indeed a Christmas to
treasure and remember.

Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to
decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Lousise had
suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately,
thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.
Louise went on to star in several bachelor party movies. I think Grandpa
still calls her whenever he can get out of the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Santa,

I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need diamond
earrings, handy slicer-dicers or comfy slippers. I only want one little thing, and
I want it deeply.

I want to slap Martha Stewart. Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her
or draw blood or anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little
cheek. I get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish just
for me, do it for thousands of women across the country. Through sheer vicarious
satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us all.

Those of us leading average, garden variety lives aren't concerned with
gracious living. We feel pretty good about ourselves if our paper plates match
when we stack them on the counter, buffet-style for dinner. We're tired of Martha
showing us how to make centerpieces from hollyhock dipped in 18-carat
gold. We're plumb out of liquid gold. Unless it's of the furniture polish
variety. We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce, spiced with turmeric. Most
of us can't even say turmeric, let alone figure out what to do with it.

OK, Santa, maybe you think I'm being a little harsh. But I'll bet with
all the holiday rush you didn't catch that interview with Martha in last week's
USA Weekend. I'm surprised there was enough room on the page for her ego.

We discovered that not only does Martha avoid take-out pizza (she's only
ordered it once), she refuses to eat it cold (No cold pizza? Is Martha Stewart
Living?). When it was pointed out that she could microwave it, she replied, "I
don't have a microwave." The reporter, Jeffrey Zaslow, noted that she said this "in
a tone that suggests you shouldn't either." Well lah-dee-dah.

Imagine that, Santa. That lovely microwave you brought me years ago, in
which I've learned to make complicated dishes like popcorn and hot chocolate,
has been declared undesirable by Queen Martha. What next? The coffee maker?

In the article, we learned that Martha has 40 sets of dishes adorning an
entire wall in her home. Forty sets. Can you spell "overkill"? And neatly put
away, no less. If my dishes make it to the dishwasher, that qualifies as "put
away" in my house.

Martha tells us she's already making homemade holiday gifts for friends.
"Last year, I made amazing silk-lined scarves for everyone," she boasts. Not
just scarves, mind you. Amazing scarves. Martha's obviously not shy about
giving herself a little pat on the back. In fact, she does so with such
frequency that one has to wonder if her back is black and blue.

~editor's note: if it isn't, i'd be glad to help!~

She goes on to tell us that "homemaking is glamour for the 90s" and says
her most glamorous friends are "interested in stain removal, how to iron a
monogram how to fold a towel." I have one piece of advice, Martha: get new
friends. Glamorous friends fly to Paris on a whim. They drift past the Greek
Islands on yachts, sipping champagne from crystal goblets. They step out for the
evening in shimmering satin gowns, whisked away by tuxedoed chauffeurs. They do not
spend their days pondering the finer art of toilet bowl sanitation.

Zaslow notes that Martha was named one of America's 25 most influential
people by Time magazine (nosing out Mother Theresa, Madeline Allbright and Maya
Angelou, no doubt). The proof of Martha's influence: after she bought white-fleshed peaches
in the supermarket, Martha says, "People saw me buy them. In an instant, they
were all gone." I hope Martha never decides to jump off a bridge.

~editor's note: actually this is a good idea. it might make the world a much smarter place.~

A guest in Martha's home told Zaslow how Martha gets up early to
rollerblade with her dogs to pick fresh wild blackberries for breakfast. This
confirms what I've suspected about Martha all along: She's obviously got too much time
on her hands. Teaching the dogs to rollerblade. What a show off.

If you think the dogs are spoiled, listen to how Martha treats her
friends: She gave one friend all 272 books from the Knopf Everyman Library. It didn't
cost much. Pocket change, really. Just $5,000. But what price a friendship,
right?

~editor's note: maybe i should become a pickpocket if that's her idea of small change~

When asked if others should envy her, Martha replies, "Don't envy me. I'm doing
this because I'm a natural teacher. You shouldn't envy teachers. You
should listen to them."

Zaslow must have slit a seam in Martha's ego at this point, because once
the hot air came hissing out, it couldn't be held back. "Being an overachiever
is nothing despicable. It is only admirable. Never lower your standards,"
says Martha.

And of her Web Page on the Internet, Martha declares herself an
"important presence" as she graciously helps people organize their sad, tacky little
lives.

There you have it, Santa. If there was ever someone who deserved a good
smack, it's Martha Stewart. But I bet I won't get my gift this year.

You probably want to smack her yourself.

Source: A Woman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just for fun, try to identify this outfit of over
500 employees with the following statistics:

* 29 have been accused of spousal abuse
* 7 have been arrested for fraud
* 19 have been accused of writing bad checks
* 117 have bankrupted at least two businesses
* 3 have been arrested for assault
* 71 cannot get a credit card due to bad credit
* 14 have been arrested on drug-related charges
* 8 have been arrested for shoplifting
* 21 are current defendants in lawsuits
* 84 were stopped for drunk driving in 1998 alone

Give up?

Yup - it's the 535 members of your United States Congress.
The same group that perpetually cranks out hundreds upon
hundreds of new laws designed to keep the rest of us in line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Date: January 1, 2000
Re: Vacation Pay

Dear Valued Employee:

Our records indicate that you have not used any vacation time over
the past 100 year(s). As I'm sure you are aware, employees are
granted 3 weeks of paid leave per year or pay in lieu of time off.
One additional week is granted for every 5 years of service.

Please either take 9,400 days off work or notify our office and your
next pay cheque will reflect payment of $8,277,432.22 which will
include all pay and interest for the past 1,200 months.

Sincerely,

Automated Payroll Processing

~editor's note: i wish! if it did happen, the IRS would probally decide i'm a tax evader and take all of it away from me.~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Blonde Jokes: ~new to me that is~

A highway patrolman pulled alongside a speeding car on the freeway. Glancing at the car, he was astounded to see that the blonde behind
the wheel was knitting! Realizing that she was oblivious to his flashing lights and siren,
the trooper cranked down his window, turned on his bullhorn and yelled, "PULLOVER!" "NO," the blonde yelled back, "IT'S A SCARF!"

The executive was interviewing a young blonde for a position in his
company. He wanted to find out something about her personality so he
asked, "If you could have a conversation with someone, living or dead, who would it be?"
The blonde quickly responded, "The living one."

A police officer stops a blond for speeding and asks her very nicely
if he could see her license. She replied in a huff, "I wish you guys would
get your act together. Just yesterday you take away my license and then today you
expect me to show it to you!"

A blonde was playing Trivial Pursuit one night. It was her turn. She
rolled the dice and she landed on "Science & Nature."
Her question was, "If you are in a vacuum and someone calls your name,
can you hear it?" She thought for a time and then asked, "Is it on or off?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Investigators at a major research institution have discovered the
heaviest element known to science. This startlingly new discovery
has been named ADMINISTRATIUM.

This new element has no protons nor electrons, thus having an
atomic number of 0. It does, however, have one neutron, 125
assistant neutrons, 75 vice neutrons and 111 assistant vice
neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312. These particles are held
together by a newly discovered sub-atomic force called morons,
which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles
known as peons.

Since Administratium has no electrons, it is inert. However, it can
easily be detected as it impedes every reaction with which it
comes into contact. According to researchers, a reaction normally
taking milliseconds will take four or more days to complete.
Administratium has a half-life of three years. However, it does not
decay but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of
the assistant neutrons, vice neutrons and assistant vice neutrons
exchange positions. In fact, the mass of Administratium will
actually increase over time, since with each reorganization some of
the morons inevitably become neutrons, forming new isotopes.
The characteristic of moron promotion leads some scientists to
speculate that Administratium is spontaneously formed wherever
morons reach a certain concentration. This hypothetical quantity is
referred to as the "critical morass".

You will know it when you see it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Dog's New Year's Resolutions:

I will . . .

. . . refrain from chewing on the coffee table no matter how delicious
it might taste.

. . . treat the food on the kitchen counter as if it belongs to my
humans.

. . . treat the water bowl as a drinking dish and not a splashing pool.

. . . stay away from the toilet bowl.

. . . wait until I dry when coming in out of the rain and not "shower"
my humans.

. . . resist the strong urge to roll in dead "stuff".

. . . wait until my humans open at least one eye before jumping on them
as they lie in bed.

. . . put my bones and toys in my own bed instead of hiding them in the
sofa or my humans' bed.

. . . just chew on my own toys and not my humans' expensive shoes.

. . . be quiet between the hours of 10:00 p.m. and 10:00 a.m.

. . . wait until that warm pile of clothes that just came out of the
dryer cools down before lying on them.

. . . eat all my dog food instead of just the choice bits and pieces.

. . . stay out of the garbage.

. . . wipe my dirty paws before coming in the house.

. . . stay off the good sofa.

. . . keep my toys from going under the sofa, bed and refrigerator.

. . . keep the nose prints off the windows.

. . . stay out of the cat's food and litter box.

. . . curl up on my own bed instead of the more comfortable human bed

. . . resist being the first one out the car window to grab the bag of
hamburgers from the McDonald's lady.

. . . look like I really enjoy being "coochie-cooed" by a stranger.

. . . come immediately when called rather than when I feel like it.

. . . .AND BE THANKFUL EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY DAY THAT I AM LOVED,
CHERISHED AND ADMIRED BY MY HUMANS. . . RESOLUTIONS ASIDE, I KNOW THAT I AM THE
LUCKIEST DOG IN THE WORLD. . . . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BASIC RULES FOR DRIVING IN MICHIGAN

A right lane construction closure is just a game to see how many people can cut in line by
passing you on the right as you sit in the left lane waiting for the same jerks to squeeze their
way back in before hitting the orange construction barrels.

Under no circumstances should you leave a safe distance between you and the car in front of
you, or the space will be filled in by somebody else putting you in an even more dangerous
situation.

Crossing two or more lanes in a single lane-change is considered "going with the flow."

The faster you drive through a red light, the smaller the chance you have of getting hit.

Never get in the way of an older car that needs extensive bodywork. Michigan is a no-fault
insurance state and the other guy doesn't have anything to lose.

Braking is to be done as hard and late as possible to ensure that your ABS kicks in, giving a
nice, relaxing foot massage as the brake pedal pulsates. For those of you without ABS, it's a
chance to stretch your legs.

Construction signs tell you about road closures immediately after you pass the last exit before
the traffic begins to back up.

The new electronic traffic warning system signs are not there to provide useful information.
They are only there to make Michigan look high-tech and to distract you from seeing the Troy
police car parked in the median.

Never pass on the left when you can pass on the right. It's a good way to scare people
entering the highway.

Speed limits are arbitrary figures, given only as suggestions and are apparently not
enforceable in the metro area during rush hour.

Just because you're in the left lane and have no room to speed up or move over doesn't mean
that a Michigan driver flashing his high beams behind you doesn't think he can go faster in
your spot.

Please remember that there is no such thing as a shortcut during rush-hour traffic in Michigan.

Always slow down and rubberneck when you see an accident or even someone changing a
tire.

Throwing litter on the roads adds variety to the landscape keeps the existing litter from getting
lonely and gives Adopt-a-highway crews something to clean up.

Everybody thinks their vehicle is better than yours, especially pickup truck drivers with
stickers of Calvin peeing on a Ford, Dodge, or Chevy logo.

Learn to swerve abruptly. Michigan is the home of high-speed slalom driving thanks to
MDOT, which puts potholes in key locations to test drivers' reflexes and keep them on their
toes.

It is traditional in Michigan to honk your horn at cars that don't move the instant the
light changes.

Seeking eye contact with another driver revokes your right of way.

Never take a green light at face value. Always look right and left before proceeding.

Remember that the goal of every Michigan driver is to get there first, by whatever
means necessary.

Real Michigan women drivers can put on pantyhose and apply eye makeup at seventy-five
miles per hour in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Real Michigan men drivers can remove pantyhose and a bra at seventy-five miles per hour
in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

25 REASONS WHY ALCOHOL SHOULD BE SERVED AT WORK...

1. It's an incentive to show up.
2. It reduces stress.
3. It leads to more honest communications.
4. It reduces complaints about low pay.
5. It cuts down on time off because you can work with a hangover.
6. Employees tell management what they think, not what management wants to hear.
7. It helps save on heating costs in the winter.
8.It encourages carpooling.
9. Increase job satisfaction because, if you have a bad job, you don't care.
10. It eliminates vacations because people would rather come to work.
11. It makes fellow employees look better.
12. It makes the cafeteria food taste better.
13. Bosses are more likely to hand out raises when they are wasted.
14. Salary negotiations are a lot more profitable.
15. Suddenly, burping during a meeting isn't so embarrassing.
16. Employees work later since there's no longer a need to relax at the bar.
17. It makes everyone more open with their ideas.
18. Everyone agrees work is better after they've had a couple of drinks.
19. Eliminates the need for employees to get drunk on their lunch break.
20. Increases the chance of seeing your boss naked.
21. It promotes foreign relations with the former Soviet Union.
22. The janitor's closet will finally have a use.
23. Employees no longer need coffee to sober up.
24. Sitting on the copy machine will no longer be seen as "gross."
25. Babbling and mumbling incoherently will be common language.